Resentment

Resentment.  That's the word that continues to dominate my thoughts.  And I try, I try so hard not to feel it, think it, live it.  But it gets harder and harder not to.  Because it's there.  It's always there.  I can't ignore it anymore.

I'm trying to establish a life for myself.  I keep trying and I keep failing.  Part of it is my own fault for being unable to secure a job after 11 years out of the workplace.  I waited too long.  I have no one to blame for that but me.  I tell myself that it will happen, that I need to be patient.  Not only with finding a job but with my heart's desire too.  And then it feels like it will never happen.  Circumstances get in my way constantly.

Just today I was taking a shower and a very strong desire to run away from home overtook me.  And I actually started to contemplate it.  To plan for it.  I started to tie up a few loose ends so that I can go, just go and not have them hanging over my head... an oil change, a haircut, a candy order that I needed to fill.  Get them done and then go... go somewhere, anywhere but here.  It'll hurt him, the man, but thinking of that stopping me adds to the resentment.  Do I always have to do what is best for everyone else, but me?   When do I take care of me?  What do I do for myself that gives me joy or happiness?  The answer to that is that I occasionally get a new tattoo.  That brings me joy, happiness and it's all for me.  Other than that, my existence seems to be to fulfill other people's needs.  And that leads to more resentment.

So I dreamed of getting away, running away.  Not forever, but long enough to clear my head and decide what I really want and where I want to be.  Enough time to stop feeling so much resentment towards so many.

The man... always trying not to harm him, not hurt or upset him.  So much like my mother in that regard it pisses me off.  Repeating history all the while telling her to stop doing that but not listening to my own words.  Existing to make his dinner because I feel like I have no other purpose.

My mother... whenever I make plans, plans of any kind whether they be to go away for a weekend or spend a day to myself either job hunting, writing, reading or just taking care of me, she needs something and I go.   And I resent it.  I resent that there are so many things she can't seem to do for herself.  I resent that I am the only one she can call who will always go and help.  I resent that I have little to no help when it comes to her or my father.

My father... probably the neediest of a all.  He is not well and continues to go downhill.  He refuses to do anything for himself.  Just flat out refuses.  He no longer wants to walk (he has a prosthetic leg and can walk with the aid of a walker) so insists on using the wheelchair.  But he also refuses to push himself once he's in it.  He wants whoever is there to push him while he sits back and does nothing.  This week he was admitted to the hospital, again, for congestive heart failure.  This has been going on since before Thanksgiving, but he never would say what was bothering him.  He had a stomach ache, that's all he would say.  He'd been to the doctor a few times, and that was all he would tell them too so they prescribe antacids and things like that.  No one caught that he had a ton of water sitting in his lungs for months.   Yesterday the doctor took a needle and drained his lung of a liter and a half of liquid.  And today they sent him home.  He's not well.  He's unable to walk and he seems kind of spacey.  Maybe he's had another stroke, I don't know.  But my 4 ft 11 mother cannot take care of a 6 ft 2 father who cannot walk or do anything for himself anymore.

My siblings... I can hear in my siblings voices that I should go there and stay with them to help out, even though they don't come out and say it.  Because if they do, they will be on the business end of a big fat "fuck you, you do it!"  One lives in FL, one lives in AL and one lives here.  I resent that two moved a way and the third is planning his move with his family within two years, which will leave me here holding the bag completely with our parents.  Not that I get much help from him now, but I get some and some is better than none.

I resent that everyone can live their lives but me.  I resent myself for feeling this way.  I resent myself for seemingly doing the right things for everyone but myself.  I resent myself for feeling selfish because of these feelings.   I resent myself for letting my life take a back seat to everyone and watching life pass me by.  I resent that there is no end in sight to any of this.

Frustrated Incorporated

Joblessness aside, my frustrations are still many.  Bear with me, I'm going to vent a little (or maybe a lot, we'll just have to see how it goes as I begin writing).  Back in June right after I interviewed for the job I wanted, my mom asked me if I could drive her and my father to Chicago the weekend of August 10.  And she asked again a few weeks later.  And she asked again a few weeks later.  And she asked again a few weeks later.  My standard answer each time was, "It all depends on if I get the job or not."  This fact apparently didn't sink in, thus the continual asking.  Finally this past week she asked yet again, for the final time.  Silly me, I had just figured that since I clearly did not get the job, the answer was obvious... yes I'll take you.   I didn't want to do this.  But it's a family event and something that is extremely important to her.  And as usual, there is no one else who could do it.  Why?  I have no idea.  Lots of family from Cleveland are going.  Why they couldn't help out this once and take my parents is a mystery.  But that's besides the point.  I am now taking them.  You may or may not know that my father is handicapped and this makes everything much more difficult.  We can argue that this is why no one else wanted to take them (and frankly there would be no argument, that's the reason, mystery solved).

Two days after we establish that yes, I'm taking them, mom says to me (very casually I might add), "you do know your father's not going right?"  Um, how would I know this unless you told me?   And she hadn't.  Apparently dad threw a fit, screamed and ranted and said he was not going and she couldn't make him go.  Suddenly this trip takes on a whole different dynamic.  I'm not trying to sound cold or unfeeling but if you've ever been a caregiver (and I have), you know how difficult it can be.  My mom is his main caregiver now and giving her a weekend away from that life, that stress, sounded good.  It sounded good to her too.  That is until I asked what Dad will be doing for the weekend we're away and she said, "he wants to stay home alone."  Oh no... oh no no no that is so not going to happen!  At this point my mom just kind of shrugged and said, "if that's what he wants to do, then he can do it."  She said he was going to call his brother (my uncle duh) and ask him to come by a few times and check on him and that was that.  No.   This is not enough.  Granted my father can do a lot more for himself than he does, but I don't think 3 days alone is the time to test those waters.  And mom was just so focused on being away, seeing her extended family and just basking in the time to herself she wasn't really thinking clearly.  And she's 80.

When I went home that day I called my brother and we talked about the fact that dad should not be alone all that time and were trying to think of solutions.  All was calm, no drama.  Although I will say that I was a tad bit annoyed that my brother (and his nurse wife, hello!) did not offer to go check on dad at all the weekend we'll be away.  Remember that no help I was talking about?  A day goes by and all is quiet.  And then, it's Friday morning and at 8 am my sister calls from Alabama in a tizzy.  She's in an uproar because dad is going to be alone that weekend. I'm just waking up and I'm confused.  Everything was being worked out as far as I knew.  But as it turns out my uncle was busy and could not come by to check on him (not at all, all weekend.  Remember that no help I was talking about?).  This is the story of my life.  Everyone is too busy to help out.  I don't get that luxury.  So as I listen to her rant and rave and try to bark out orders on what has to be done, my cell phone rings and it's my brother in Florida.  I hang up with sis to talk to him and he too is in a tizzy, although his tizzies are calmer and more level headed.

Apparently all hell broke loose on Thursday and I had no idea.  Mom got in a fight with Cleveland bro, who seems to think mom is being selfish for wanting something for herself and basically told her so.  Aunt told mom "I cannot believe you would leave him alone a whole weekend," thus piling the guilt trip on her more (even though she and my uncle couldn't be bothered to check on him).  Mom in turn tries to force dad to go to Chicago and the screaming escalates to fever pitch.  Florida bro just happened to call mom after all this happened and she was upset and crying.  No one bothered to tell me any of this at the time.  Instead, Florida bro and Alabama sis spoke to each other and decided they needed to step in.  This may sound counter to what I've said previously about no one stepping up to help out but if they are going to panic every time something happens, then they need to butt the fuck out.  They do not live here.  They don't know how things are on a day to day basis.  They always end up making things worse.  Help is only good if it's actually helpful.  If they had just called me when all this shit was going down (drama drama drama!!!) things might not have escalated.  But the sad fact is, no matter how much I do for how long (I have been basically in charge of my mom and dad for 6 years now) I am still the youngest (even though I'm 46) and I am still looked upon as not being able to handle anything.  Newsflash, I handle EVERYTHING.

So as Florida bro is telling me about a call he put in to a friend who has an ill father and wondering what she does when she needs help (a good idea), I tell him that our cousin is a paid companion for the elderly and, even though he's going to Chicago as well, maybe he knows someone.  He likes this idea so I hang up with him, call my sister back and tell her.  She's down with it, and then I call mom and, although I don't yell at her I do make it very clear that I'm very unhappy that she did not call me and inform me about all the angst.  And that I had to find out from my out of state brother and sister what is going on with her and my father, whom I see every week and talk to almost every day.  Then I tell her what I'm going to do and she too likes the idea.  I call my cousin, we talk, he gives me the number of the place he works for.  I call, they are incredibly helpful and understanding.  This is what they do. They are hired.  We have someone coming in each day from 1 pm to 7 pm.  They will make him lunch, hang out with him for the day, make him dinner, clean up and go.  Lalia to the rescue yet again.  Wouldn't it just be easier if everyone could realize that I know what the fuck I'm doing.  I know how to handle stress situations with our parents.  And if they can't just fucking chill and come up with a solution without all the drama and screaming, they should all just shut the fuck up.

And PS we're all pissed off at Cleveland bro for offering NO help whatsoever.

And now that that is settled, I hope to actually enjoy the weekend in Chicago with my mom.